


Chastity

by quaffanddoff



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alliteration, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Dom/sub Undertones, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, POV Second Person, Rhymes, Wordplay, assonance, puns, verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23115463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quaffanddoff/pseuds/quaffanddoff
Summary: Chasten waxes poetic about lust, love, language, and life on the campaign trail with Pete.
Relationships: Chasten Buttigieg/Pete Buttigieg
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	Chastity

Before me, you were in chastity. 

For years, you were aware of a chasm inside you. As it yawned, you yearned. A voice chattered away in your mind, always reminding. Never forgiving, never forgetting. Never letting up. Getting louder all the time. It chastised and lambasted you. It told you you are different: inverted, perverse. Your internal variance is inherent. The other boys weren’t consistently castigated by that noise. Try as you might, you couldn’t ignore their youthful ignorance.

So much time wasted. So long you lasted, lusting yet forced to keep chaste. A bastion of patience. 

Until finally—we met. Everything hinged upon that chance encounter. From our first exchange, we were enchanted.

We got together. We got along. And soon, I got you alone. 

Such a funny, unfamiliar feeling it was as we finally unfastened. After all that patient waiting, you could linger no longer. You hastened to taste me. Tentative, tense, but completely competent. As it turned out, you had a latent talent for it. I returned the favor with fervor, but savoring my flavor always remained your favorite. 

Before long, we became avid addicts to one another. So in love, we were loath to spend even one night apart. Our hearts mutually melted; our bodies beautifully melded. We could get pretty shmaltzy: you, drippier than a malted milkshake, I, saccharine as a Malteser.

Being in your bed—I'd bet there’s nothing better. Getting busy, bitten, bossed around. Regularly repeating, constantly competing: in the case of Pete v. me, the Honorable Booty Judge presiding, all rise. 

My insomniac, you kept me up all night. My omnivore, you devoured me. My puppeteer, you controlled me omnipotently. Typically, I was the teacher, but for once, the prof became the pupil. 

I was the muse to your music and all that concerted effort paid off. You tickled my ivories and plucked my heartstrings until playing my organ became your forte.

When we made love, our language tended to languish. We stayed sanguine, speaking in tongues, laboring with languor over our new lingua franca. Ever the polyglot, you mixed pidgins and creoles, picking up the new slang I slung at you with sangfroid. 

A picture-perfect politician, you solicited my support: sought my assistance, spurred my spending, and surged in my polls. On the campaign trail, your opponents were hot on your heels; I followed your happy trail straight to my hot piece of tail. You inspired a nation; I contributed donation after donation to your just cause. My elegant delegate, I found you delectably electable. When you withdrew, you knew I'd be with you.

Before me, you were in chastity. Then I, Chasten, unshackled you, shagged you, and shacked up with you. And now, you're free. Except, of course, that you belong to me.


End file.
